


This Golden Cage

by WriteForIt



Series: All That Glitters Isn't Gold [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Current Setting, Angst, Cheating, Emotional Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Friends Are Precious And Should Be Protected, Heartbreak, M/M, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Polyamory, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Tenderness, Trust Issues, google translate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:11:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteForIt/pseuds/WriteForIt
Summary: Otherwise known as, the author cannot write summaries, and occasionally updates.





	1. Chapter One: Thomas

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, gals and nonbinary pals! Before you read, I need to warn you:
> 
> This story has severe mentions of rape, abuse, and coercion.  
> Stay safe, y'all, and read at your own risk!
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading and supporting this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently rewriting all the chapters I had previously posted.

**Sunday.**

* * *

Thomas started to beg again, short on other options. He looked around, unsure if he was heard. 

His eyes landed on the corner of the room, at the person laughing silently as they ignored his pleas. He pulled at his restraints, trying to break free as a shadow caught his eye.

His captor stood and stretched, glaring at his prisoner as he walked towards the bed.

Running his fingers down the sides of the headboard, he began to speak. 

"Stop resisting, and I'll think about being a little easier on you." He said, watching the bruised skin change colors as they worked to break the ropes.

"I said stop." He warned, watching as they stilled, staring up at the ceiling in defeat.

 _Of course. What else did you expect? He hasn't resisted you in years._ He thought, as he wound his hand through their hair and played with the strands.

"You can beg, plead, and bargain all you want." He pulled the brunette by his hair, forcing their head back as they hissed in pain. "If you could escape this, where would you go? Who would want you? There's nothing good about you except your body."

He released his hair and continued, looking them up and down in disgust. "You think anyone else wants used goods?" 

Thomas thought for a second, letting the words sink in. _You are nothing but used goods, to sit around and take up space. Nobody wants you. Nobody needs you. You are worthless; too stupid to learn, and too broken to be taught._

Heshook his head, exhausted and close to tears. "No, sir."

George nodded happily, loosening his grip on his boyfriend's hair. "Now, why are we here tonight?"

Thomas stared at the ceiling, tracing patterns with his eyes as he spoke. "I couldn't do what I was instructed to."

He ran a hand through the long black curls he had just released. "Yes, that. What else, baby?"

He thought back to the dinner, retracing his steps for an instance where he could have been wrong, or not followed orders.

George checked his appearance one last time, pinning his tie in place before turning around.  _'Your instructions for tonight are special. They're all about securing new clients. You will use yourself as bait, doing anything you can to bring these high society snobs to our side. Anything_ _they want, you will allow. Is that clear?'_ He paused, waiting for his words to sink in.

Thomas hesitated, unsure of what he heard. He turned to ask, wanting to be sure of what he was being told to do. 

 _'That includes being used? In that way?'_ Thomas looked down as he wrung his hands, his entire body filling with dread.

George raised an eyebrow, looking his boyfriend in the eye as he explained. _'Sharing yourself shouldn't be new to you._ He grinned brilliantly, his perfect boyfriend persona out in full force. 

He continued, speaking tenderly in Thomas's ear. _You can take one for the both of us. If it could help us, you should want to try it, right, baby?'_ He wrapped an arm around Thomas's waist, kissing him tenderly.

Thomas nodded as they pulled apart, wanting to help his boyfriend succeed. Anything that could help had to be worth trying, right?

He found nothing. He had done what was needed. Anything they wanted, he did. _Including the things that made him want to gag._ "I wouldn't.. I don't know. What did I do wrong?" His desperate answer wasn't what George wanted to hear, because he felt the sharp sting of the belt against the back of his thighs soon after.

He continued to plead. "George, baby, please! I did what they wanted! What you asked! Please!" He felt tears running down his cheeks as George's self control disappeared.

Thomas writhed, struggling against his bindings as the blows rained down. The belt stopped, swinging in place as Thomas relished the precious seconds he had been granted to breathe.

George rubbed away the tension that had built up in his arm. "No, you want to be seen, you need to be noticed. You are nothing but an attention whore." He accused, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Or, is it that you thought that he would rescue you?" He asked, laughing at the idea.

He walked closer towards the now still figure on the bed, his carefully crafted public persona now nonexistent. "Did you think that?"

George stopped laughing, staring darkly as he waited for an answer. _What do I say?_

He thought about it as slowly as he dared while George stood there, glaring. _What you think he wants to hear,_ _stupid_.His brain fired back at him as he bit his lip. _It'll be a long shot, though._

 _Then stop resisting and agree._  He thought, angry and desperate. _Agree, and he'll feel sorry for you. Then, you tell him exactly what he wants to hear and he'll let you keep breathing._

Thomas lowered his head, speaking softly.

"No, sir. I know that I'm not worth rescuing." Thomas whispered, silently begging to be spared.

"Of course. You and I both know that." George said, rolling his eyes at the pathetic sight he was seeing. _It shouldn't be this easy. Where's the fight in this?_

He sighed to himself, playing along. "Then will you be a good boy and tell Daddy what you did?" George said, his fingers tracing his cheek gently as he sat down on the bed.

"Yes, sir." Thomas answered, leaning into the touch. He hated how he needed -- or wanted this kind of "affection".

"Good girl." George rearranged the curls that had been pulled out of place before standing up to listen to the story.

"Well?" He asked, looking down at the brunette, who was still infuriatingly silent.

Thomas took a deep breath and began to speak.

The party was going well. The other guests were ignorant of what was going on upstairs, and Thomas wasn't about to share. Four soon to be patrons stood in different corners, waiting for his current session to end when another couple walked in, cutting in front of all of the others as some started to groan.

"Thomas? Thomas Jefferson?" He looked up, trying to figure out who was calling his name when a woman in white appeared arm in arm with her husband.

From where he was kneeling, he could tell that they were better off than some of the other guests, who were dressed in plain suits and dull, lifeless dresses that were better suited for office work than a party.

The woman was stunning, her expensive dress a glowing white, decorated with tiny, intricate golden patterns which caught the light and shined anywhere she stood. Her husband stood next to her, resplendent in a white suit adorned with soft golden accents.

"Abigail?" He asked softly. _What was she doing here?_

The woman smiled, her eyes asking the exact thing he had just thought of her. "Thomas. If you aren't busy, please?" She asked, gesturing to his customer, who was tapping his foot angrily. 

 _He looks angrier at their arrival than at the interruption._ Thomas looked back at his current customer and pulled off slowly, getting up to talk to Abigail instead.

"Hey!" The man yelled, latching onto Thomas's arm. "You weren't through yet."

Thomas tried to reclaim his arm, shaking the man off as best as he could. "Sir, I'm sorry. I have another patron. I'll need to get back to you later."

The man growled, glaring between Thomas and  before fastening his pants. "Forget it. I'll find a cheaper whore elsewhere." He walked off, and Thomas turned toward Abigail.

"Thomas? I was wondering if we could purchase you for the night." She said, gesturing in between herself and her husband.

"What do you need?" He asked hesitantly. He usually didn't do couples unless George knew them. And even then, he wasn't allowed to enjoy it. He was only to be used, nothing greater, nothing less.

Abigail turned to her husband, whispering. Thomas could only watch as he nodded along, pausing only to look up and suggest something new to her.

Finally, they agreed, and Thomas was ushered to a separate room. He heard the door shut behind him, and was waiting for the lock to click into place when John spoke.

"Relax, Jefferson. We're not going to do anything to you." He gestured to himself and Abigail, standing awkwardly away from him.

Thomas turned, confused. "What do you.. You're not going to.. need anything?" He stood watching as his old friends shook their heads in horror.

"No! Heavens, no! Thomas, we could never.. need.. anything from you. Just you." Abigail exclaimed, hugging Thomas tight.

John nodded in agreement. "That's right, Thomas. Only you, here and safe with us." He walked over and clapped his college roommate on the back. 

Abigail pulled out a chair, offering it to Thomas. "Now, sit. Talk to us, old friend. About better times."

She winked. "I heard that you and my husband have had your fair share of spats as debate partners back then."

Thomas smiled, accepting the seat as the husband and wife sat on the bed and listened to Thomas tell the story of how he first laid eyes on Alexander Hamilton.

Thomas snapped back to the present, deciding against telling the truth. 

"I was being good. I was being obedient, I used all the skills I was taught. The couple you sent in bought an entire night. All they wanted to do was talk." He talked fast, hoping George would buy his story.

"Then how do you explain away you talking to this couple like you were friends?"

"They wanted to talk. That's all. So, I started talking to them about anything, and I found out that they like the classics. So we talked about Shakespeare, Jane Eyre, War and Peace, and Pride and Prejudice and about stuff like art, science, and history. Nothing crucial."

George nodded as Thomas finished, thinking deeply.

"Well, since it looks like you told the truth, and you did secure some high paying new clients, I suppose that I can be lenient. For now, at least." He finished, slipping his hand back inside the belt's open loop and pulling it closed.

"Now, tell me you're sorry." He asked, holding the belt up where it could be seen.

"Sorry, sir." He lowered his eyes and flinched as the first blow landed in between his shoulder blades.

"Say it again. I want to hear it louder." George was not so secretly enjoying the flinching he saw as his little boy tried to ignore the sting of the belt.

"Sorry, sir!" Another blow, another flinch. He could get used to this.

 _1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.._ He counted to twenty before the numbness set in, turning the pain into a dull ache. _Can't let George know, or he won't be as lenient. Then we'll really be in pain._

He stopped counting entirely soon after, waiting for George to finish before falling asleep, his back now stinging and red.

* * *

**Monday.**

* * *

When George went to work the next day, Thomas stood at the doorway like he was expected to and said goodbye. He waited at the door until he saw the car go down the street, then closed and locked it behind him.

Thomas always chose to stay behind. He started upstairs, taking the sheets off of the beds and working his way down.

_'It's all too boring and stressful for you, baby.'_

_'But, we need other lawyers. There aren't enough with the necessary experience to handle cases.' Thomas had argued with passion, wanting George to see his point._

_'We'll be fine. I want you to get away, far away from that world. Both of us can't stay at work for long, and I want you here.' George reasoned, looking down at Thomas with pure adoration._

_'But George, what about King? He's too powerful to ignore, and too good. He could ruin us.'_

_George kissed his forehead gently, wrapping an arm around his waist. 'Worry about yourself first, and be good by going inside. We'll talk when I get in, okay?' He walked towards the car, opening the door before turning around again._

_'Go on and go inside, baby. We'll talk later.' Thomas walked inside and closed the door, listening as the car sped down the street._

Thomas called out sick that day. He stopped going entirely soon after.

The next day, George had been sorry, explained roses and expensive presents and sworn not to do it again. He had said he loved Thomas, and repeated how sorry he was for hurting his little girl.

Thomas had swallowed it all, unblinking. Then he had done it again. And again. And again. He had thought it was his fault, and he was right. If he just shut up, he wouldn't keep being hit.

Four years later, and countless bruises later, he knew his place. He began to expect the abuse, and accepted it. George knew where he belonged, and was trying to keep him there, if only he would listen.

He had no business in the workplace and understood that now. George was just trying to protect his baby, right? 

Thomas walked from the entrance through the expansive four story house to his bedroom with George in the back of the house. He was pondering his options and had settled on a nice bath before he heard a knock at the door.

He rushed to get his clothes back on, not wanting to be taught anything new today. His head still echoed with the last lesson he had learned.

' _Good girls should always be able to learn. They should always listen, learn, and look pretty. Being slow is being useless, and no one will reward slow, stupid, or useless little girls.'_  He paced irritably, looking down at where Thomas was kneeling next to the door.

 _'You will learn or I will continue to teach you, the hard way._   He had grabbed his shirt, pulling him to the couch using the thin fabric.

He had stripped Thomas of his clothes, ripping them to shreds, and bent him over his knee, hitting him with the belt he had worn to work. His back, shoulders, legs and ass had hurt dearly by then, but George hadn't let up until Thomas was pleading with him to stop.

Needless to say, he had gotten a few extra licks for that, too.

' _No pleading. It only gets worse when you beg. Daddy does what he sees fit for you.'_ George lectured as he put his belt back on while Thomas rushed to pick his tattered clothes up off of the floor.

 _Love hurts, after all._ His brain taunted, laughing when he couldn't sit without wincing.

The experience had been and was still enough. He didn't need to relearn that lesson.

So he listened intently at the front door, before opening it, hoping it wasn't another test. 

When he opened the door, instead of being punished by George, he was rewarded with the sight of his brother, Lafayette.

He was dressed in a white shirt decorated with black writing in the shape of a pair of headphones, a royal blue blazer with golden buttons and gray skinny jeans.

Surprised to see a friendly face, he hugged Lafayette and brought him inside so they could talk, intent on catching up.

They walked upstairs slowly, standing around until Thomas found the courage to start.

"How are you?" Thomas asked, unsure where to begin. He hadn't seen his brother since George cut off their contact weeks ago.

 _He had begun to forget what Lafayette looked like._  He realized, laughing to himself awkwardly, unwilling to really think about it.

"I am fine, frére. And you?" He responded, staring strangely at Thomas's thin frame, swallowed by what he was wearing. 

Thomas followed his gaze down to his clothes. One of George's old shirts and a pair of pants that used to be too little now hung loosely on Thomas, exaggerating his lack of proper diet.

 _George feeds you enough. Stop whining._  He argued, consciously silencing his thoughts.

Lafayette attempted to hide his staring, looking at anything except Thomas, still astonished at the apparent lack of food he had been getting.  _How long has this been happening to you?_ He thought, feeling guilty about not seeing his brother's poor eating.

Thomas looked down at the floor, wishing he would stop staring. He was starting to feel uneasy at the constant attention he was being given.

 _The concerned glances he thinks I don't notice, the way he looks around like he wants to talk about anything else._ Thomas started to tap his foot, angry at his brother for feeling the need to act around him.

 _There is nothing wrong, okay?_  He shouted, blocking out all signs saying otherwise.

Then Lafayette got a look of pity on his face, and Thomas felt his anger take control of his words.

"Yes? What is it? What do you want?" He asked, unconcerned with the tone he was using.

Lafayette dropped his act and looked at him, concern etched on his face at Thomas's appearance.

"Is all, how you say, all right, mon frére?" Lafayette asked, unsure. He noticed the bruise on Thomas's cheek and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Is he.. hurting you?" Lafayette stuttered, fully worried about Thomas now.

Thomas rolled his eyes, answering in perfect French, "Oui, c'est bien ici. Pas d'ínquiétudes à avoir. Nous allons bien." He said, gesturing around the house and to himself.

"Why are you here, Laf? What's up?" He asked irritably, switching back to English.

"I haven't seen you in four weeks, and this is how you greet me?" He teased, trying to diffuse the tension that had grown between the pair.

Thomas stiffened, flashing back to the last time he had been punched. Lafayette saw the fear in his eyes grow, forced to watch as his brother retreated into his own head.

_'Has princess learned her lesson?'_

_'Has the little girl learned her place?'_

_'Is baby girl through with her toys now? The grownups want to play too, baby.'_

He pulled his head in between his knees, preparing for another blow, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer.

He couldn't be hurt again, he would listen, he would obey, he would, he --

\-- was in his brother's arms, rocking back and forth as his hands rubbed patterns into his back until he stopped shaking and... crying?

He could feel the wetness running down his cheeks and wiped it off, shaking his head in an attempt to snap out of it. 

Thomas was unaware of when he ended up leaning against his brother, only that he was still there. He checked his watch, certain that it was late. 

He shook his head again, pushing his brother away. That worked to get him off, though there was worry in his eyes as he tried to speak.

"Get out." He whispered, pointing toward the door.

When he didn't respond fast enough, Thomas shouted, his words loud and full of pain. 

"Get out! Goodbye, Lafayette!" He shouted, trying to send Lafayette away for his own good. _If he saw you here, it wouldn't be good._

Looking into his brother's eyes, Lafayette understood. He walked downstairs, grabbing the blazer he had draped on the couch earlier.

He turned back towards Thomas, standing at the door with confusion, pleading and desperation warring in his eyes. _What happens_   _now that he knows?_ He finished the thought, shaking his head.

Thomas walked downstairs and pushed his brother outside, shutting the door tight. He couldn't deal with Lafayette right now. Or his fucking pity.

* * *

Locking it, Thomas sank down and leaned against it, all attempts at relaxation forgotten. He stayed like that after he heard Lafayette's car door shut, and the engine start.

Soon, he had backed out of the driveway and sped down the road to who knows where. Thomas didn't think, didn't breathe until he heard keys in the front door.

George was home.  _What now?_  Thomas thought in despair. He hadn't cooked anything for dinner or cleaned the house yet.

He stood up, getting out of the doorway. He kneeled in the front hallway, preparing for anything.

What he didn't see was the other person walking through the door with George. 

Alex stopped short in the doorway, unsure of how to act. They saw each other at the same time through the now open door and stared, each pretending not to notice the other.

"Thomas, baby, say hello to Alexander Hamilton." George instructed when he opened the door, expecting Thomas to be standing next to the door, waiting as usual.

When he couldn't find Thomas, he looked around, close to calling out his name before stopping short.  _Where is the little shit?_ He wondered, finding him kneeling at the doorway. 

"Thomas, what the hell are you doing?" George demanded, angry and off guard at the sight he faced.

Thomas looked up from his position to see his boyfriend walk inside the house. 

 _With guests._  He noted, looking up again at a now glaring Washington.

"I was.. uh.." Thomas started pathetically.

"You were what? Doing nothing? Why isn't this house clean? Don't you know we have guests?" He hissed, referring to Alexander.

Thomas couldn't defend himself without exposing Lafayette's arrival, so he stayed silent.

"Sir? What's wrong?" Alexander asked, sounding innocent, trying not to anger his boss. "Is he okay?" He asked, glancing at the kneeling brunette.

George thought fast, not wanting Alexander to see what he was about to do, so he shook his head and gestured towards the stairs.

"He's fine. But you had a long day. Go rest, Alexander. I'll be with you in a second." George said, smiling at Alex and ruffling his hair like a son as he went past. Alex walked slowly, looking down once at Thomas, then racing upstairs. Waiting until Alex was reasonably out of earshot, he finished his walk towards Thomas.

"You will answer for what you did." George said, grabbing handfuls of Thomas's shirt collar to force him up.

"You do this all the time. This is what's wrong with you." He snarled, letting go of his collar and grabbing Thomas by the hair, roughly pulling on the strands.

"You cannot handle cleaning the house, or cooking dinner." He glared down, upset at the interruption to his speech.

"You cannot learn, regardless of how hard I teach you." He slapped Thomas, a red handprint appearing where George's hand had been.

"You tease and show off for others, who would only use you and throw you away, yet you show so little concern for those who actually want you." George growled, grabbing his collar and shaking harshly.

"Is it a lack of respect? A lack of appreciation?" Thomas shook his head, too scared to speak.

"Actually, I think it is. I think you need to be shown how to be respectful and appreciative, like a good girl should be." He said, pulling the brunette by the hair up the stairs.

* * *

"When we're done, you will say sorry and thank you for the trouble you caused today. Understand?" He opened the door and pushed the brunette inside, turning around to lock the door behind him.

Thomas backed up until he hit the wall, nodding in fear.

George walked closer, hands in his pockets. "Do you understand?" He rolled his eyes and pulled the brunette's hair as he nodded underneath him. 

His shirt disappeared first, and he could feel hands against his thighs, groping him while searching for the button to his jeans. 

He resisted as his pants were pulled down and his legs were forced apart. 

"Stop resisting." George growled, pulling at clothes with one hand as the other tightened around Thomas's throat.

He saw stars as George continued his task, feeling clothes tear and cold air rush in.

The world was getting blurry and Thomas couldn't hold out any longer, the scraps at his ankles offering no real defense against the worst of the abuse. 

He stood there, pinned against the wall, wishing he could block out what was being said.

"You think you're worth anything else?You think you're good for anything else?" George asked as he was forced to his knees.

"This is your only use, and your only purpose. The fact that you think you are allowed to think at all is worthy of worse than this." He nodded along, holding back tears as the hand in his hair forced him closer.

Then there were the feelings. Short of disassociating entirely, those were harder to block out. 

The feeling of being forced to stand abuse that was just short of brutal.

The feeling of being strong, of being powerful enough to stop this, but powerless to do so.

The feeling of being desperate, of wanting to scream, cry, or curl up into a ball and being able to do none of those. 

The feeling of being helpless as another person used his body relentlessly without asking.

The feeling of resignation that washed through him as he was thrown aside like a piece of trash. 

The feeling of dread as he saw the collar, his training kicking in as he recalled what was going to happen next.

The feeling of despair as he crawled forward to accept the cold leather collar now snug around his neck.

The last thing he felt, though? The tears that rolled down his face as he finally fell asleep.

_"Now, what do you say when someone teaches you a lesson, Thomas?"_

_"Thank you, sir." He tugged on the leash attaching him to both the collar and the bedpost._


	2. Chapter Two: Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewriting is hard. Still not satisfied with the last chapter, but you guys seem to be, so, I'll let it be.

**Tuesday.**  

* * *

Thomas could feel the shirt slip over his head in his sleep, the blurry figure responsible for the article's apperance disappearing and reappearing behind his head.

The sweatpants were next, slipped on as he flailed around pointlessly, still trying to find the location of said figure.

His head was pushed down roughly, the chain connecting him to the bedpost falling to the ground as he was picked up and laid on the bed, sleep catching up before he could protest.

He woke up hours later, turning on his side still wearing the collar, and looked down at the ground sleepily.

 _Wait. You aren't on the floor?_ Testing his new abilities, he looked at the ground where his chain sat, still attached to the bedpost below.

 _Who did this?_ He thought, 'this' referring to the clothes that were now on his body, with no idea how they got there.

He looked down again, noticing new bruises starting to show underneath the thin white shirt. Guessing that they were from last night, he started to count, thinking about how long it would take the new ones to heal.

He counted two on his arms, one around each wrist, at least three scattered along the length of his hips, and one especially dark one around his throat, all courtesy of George Washington.

He had been used and beaten, and had fully expected to be locked in that room and allowed to suffer until George realized he needed food and water.

 _Why had he carried him in here, then? W_ _hat was the purpose of being punished, then rewarded?_ He thought cluelessly, ignoring the unpleasant thoughts that fought for space in his head.

Still drowsy, he stretched gingerly, taking care not to fall off of the bed. He looked up to see George watching with interest.

"You were so pretty last night." George said casually, still watching Thomas as he stretched languidly.

"You were so good last night, too. Against the wall on your hands and knees, practically begging. You were gorgeous, baby girl." He sat up, patting his lap as Thomas sat down, leaning into his boyfriend's bare chest.

"I thought you deserved a reward for all that work, so I carried you in here to sleep last night." He continued, reaching out and caressing Thomas's cheek with the back of his hand.

Thomas purred prettily at the touch, lapping up the praise and listening carefully to all the words in case he needed to answer anything.

"Can you understand the reason I tell you to clean now, baby?"George asked gently, still touching Thomas absently.

He pushed the bouncy curled brunette out of his lap, staring at him harshly from the head of the bed. "I want you to answer this honestly, because I want no bullshit with you today."He warned, getting up out of bed to get ready for work.

Thomas nodded obediently, watching as George walked into the other room to wake Alexander.

He laid there until George ordered him to get dressed, and watched at the doorway as George headed down the street to work with Alex in tow.

He sighed and went to clear the dishes from breakfast, sitting the dirtiest in the sink to soak, all of his injuries hidden under a long sleeved dark blue button down and plain blue jeans.

Still wearing the collar, he went around the house, checking off each of his chores on his list before heading back to the kitchen to check on the dishes.

 _He won't tolerate any bullshit today, so you better do your chores, little one. You wouldn't want to be punished again tonight, would you?_ His brain taunted, thinking of the collar still hidden under his clothes.

A thought distracted him as he stood cleaning the last of the dishes in the sink.  _He punishes you because you won't listen. If you could be good, he wouldn't need to. Because good girls follow orders._

Another thought added on as he put the already dry dishes away.  _George did what he had to do to keep you in line. He cares about you, that's why he hurts you._

Standing there, he agreed, because who else would put up with his disobedience for this long? 

The doorbell rang and he rushed to answer, expecting anyone but who he saw.

He opened the door to see Angelica Schuyler, dressed in dark blue jeans and a ruffled tank top.

 _What is she doing here?_  He thought, wondering why he was letting her inside in the first place.

She walked around the house, taking his hands in hers and glancing at his wrists before looking away.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously, backing away from her. 

 _Checking you for signs of abuse, l_ _ike any suspicious black eyes or bruises._ She thought, noticingfaint handprints on his face that failed to blend in with his natural brown skin.

"Here, this is for you." She changed the topic, and held out a brown wicker basket in her hands. 

When he went to take it, she saw the dark purple bruises circling each wrist and looked away.

 _What has that asshole been doing to you?_ She wondered, shaking her head as he stared down at the basket uncertainly.

"Lafayette helped, too. He said to tell you that he only wanted you to be happy." She continued, standing awkwardly in the way of the entertainment center.

At the sound of his brother's name, Thomas stilled, wincing hard. "What did he help with?" Thomas asked breezily, hoping she wouldn't notice the wince.

She noticed, watching closely as he tensed up and swallowed. "Oh, he helped with the chicken, the tomato soup, and the mac and cheese. He said that last one was your favorite when you were kids." 

She smiled and gestured to the basket sheepishly as he opened it. "We worked really hard on it. All of us."

He looked down at all the food inside, taking each item out carefully.

 _There was enough food in there to last a week, at least._ He thought in shock _,_  holding back tears.

"You all helped with this?" He asked, stunned at all the food sitting on the table. 

She nodded, looking concerned. "Yes, we did. Are you okay?" She reached out to hold his hands, concern growing as she saw the bruises on his sides.

"Why?" He looked at her fearfully, tensing as she looked down at his sides.

"You look strange. That's all." She dropped his hands and looked into his eyes, shaking her head as he looked away.

He stepped back, looking at her angrily. "Strange, how?"

She dropped the act, sighing in frustration as she threw up her hands.

Angelica walked up to Thomas and rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing blue and purple circles around his wrists and upper arms.

"Thomas, who did this to you?" She asked, getting directly to the point.

He stopped cold, setting the basket on the couch and turning around to face her.

"Please don't." He begged, wincing again as she raised her hand to cup his cheek.

"Thomas." She lowered her hand and stepped back slowly, raising her hands in surrender.

"Angelica." He said, breathing deeply and relaxing as she backed away.

She looked at him closely, watching as he relaxed the further away she went.

"Is he hurting you? Is he the reason why we don't see you now?" Angelica whispered, unsure if he could hear her.

"No! He.. he cares about.. He.." Thomas sputtered, hearing her clearly, but unable to look her in the eye.   

She lowered her hands slowly, crossing the room to stand where he could see her. "Thomas, we care about you. We need you to tell us what's happening to you."

He shook his head, refusing to speak.

"Can you please tell us what's going on?" She took his hands and pleaded, all out of ideas.

After a beat of silence, Angelica continued, sighing deeply. "So it's true. He is hurting you. What else is he doing to you?"

"Nothing, Angelica." Thomas looked up at her in fear, refusing to say anything else.

She tapped her foot against the hardwood floor. "Does anyone know about this? At all?"

He rubbed the back of his head, shaking it roughly. "If he knew about today, or about the basket, or about the food, he would.." He let the threat hang in the air, unfinished.

She stopped tapping as he looked up, her black heels stilling on the hardwood.

"Angelica, you can't tell anyone else what you saw. Please." He walked back to the where the basket sat, pacing and wringing his hands repeatedly. 

Angelica felt her heart break. Her friend, being used by this piece of shit and she wasn't supposed to say anything?

She looked up into his eyes, shaking her head. This was one secret she wasn't about to keep.

She let go of his hands. "Angelica?" He hoped she wasn't going to do what he thought she was.  _Would she?_

"Thomas?" She turned around, walking to the door, slowly processing how she would break this to his brother and best friend. 

He looked away from rearranging the basket to see her staring at him with tears in her eyes. "Yes?" He asked, heart dropping a little at the sight.  _Of course she would._

"Take care of yourself, please." She unlocked the door, stepping through it into the afternoon sun. "We love you." She closed the door and walked to her car.

He nodded soberly, watching her get in and back out before putting the basket on the dining room table with tears in his eyes.

* * *

Angelica rode in silence all the way back to Starbucks, his last words ringing in her ears.

John was the first to notice, asking her what was wrong.

When he got no response, Theodosia, leaning next to the curly haired brunette, tried again.

"What happened, Angel? Are you okay?" Angelica looked up from her seat and shook her head, sniffling softly.

John and Theo paused what they were doing and looked at one another, nodding in silent agreement.

Theodosia walked to the nearest Schuyler, who was sitting in a chair, reading a book, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. 

Eliza looked up in surprise and turned to her sister, touching her shoulder gently and heading towards the door, signaling for Angelica to follow.

Theo watched, wiping down the counter, as the two sisters talked outside. When they finally entered the building again, the group of friends looked at the pair uncertainly.

"What happened, you guys?" The youngest sister asked, standing up to console her sister. 

Angelica answered first, sitting down gracefully on the couch next to Hercules. "I went to George's house today to drop off the care package we all helped with, right?" She asked rhetorically, looking for a place to focus her attention.

She continued, focusing on the pastry she had been handed. "I saw bruises on Thomas's wrists. When I asked what was going on, he refused to talk about it."

She looked around the room, seeing their corner of the shop go silent one by one.

Lafayette cleared his throat loudly, staring at the floor as he spoke. "Based off of what Angelica and I have seen, we think that George is abusing him." 

"What physical proof do you possess of the abuse?" Aaron asked, looking around at the group uncertainly. "I don't want to say anything against it and end up looking stupid without any facts, Lafayette."

He held up his hands in surrender at James and John's glares. "Just being cautious, you two." They relaxed fractionally, turning back around to listen to Lafayette.

"When I went over there yesterday, he broke down crying and refused to say why." Lafayette's accent grew stronger, illustrating his anger at the situation.

He continued uninterrupted, ticking off the reasons on the tips of his fingers. "Attached to that are the sudden and recent bruises, the way he keeps pretending to be okay while he gets beaten, and the fact that we cannot talk to him any longer, at least not without George attached to his hip like a parasite." 

Aaron still looked uncertain, glaring at his book like the truth was hidden in the pages.

"That bastard." James growled, clutching his textbook tightly as Dolley tapped his hand lightly to loosen his grip.

"Is there any way to help him?" Theodosia asked, sitting three fresh canisters of whipped cream on the bar.

"There is. If he wants help, that is." Maria chimed in, walking towards the group with three boxes of chocolate powder in her hands.

"How?" Abigail Adams, the newest of the group, asked, curious at where the girl in the red shirt and black apron had been.

Maria replied, sitting down in a chair in front of the counter facing the rest of the group. "He has to want help.You force an abusive relationship apart without letting the abused person know, and they'll go right back to the abuser. Sometimes, they go back anyways." She looked around at the each person in the group, head held high.

"And how would you know?" James Madison asked angrily, sitting in a chair right next to the corner with his textbook still in a death grip.

Dolley turned in her chair, putting her hand in his. He looked down at their hands, then at her, and released the book to hug her. 

Maria spun slowly in her chair, taking her time to collect her thoughts. "Been there, that's how. I wanted to escape, and I could, but not all can."

"Are you sure that he wants to?" Maria asked, turning back to Angelica.

Angelica shook her head, thinking back to earlier. "He wouldn't say. He thinks he's happy there, but the bruises say otherwise."

Maria nodded soberly, brushing her curly brown hair out of her face. "He'll say things like that. He is dependant on his abuser, and has been trained to say what he or she thinks he should."

"When was the last time he talked to either of you, before recently, that is?" She labeled the powder, taking the boxes to the back before sitting down again.

Angelica answered, blowing her nose into her sister's tissue. "A year."

"Since Halloween, so three or four weeks ago." Lafayette responded worriedly, chewing his nails and bouncing his knee against the leg of the chair.

"The abuser always blocks all contact to anyone close, or anyone who threaten any power they hold." She turned, looking at the wall in deep thought. 

"Are you okay?" Theo asked, heading behind the counter to restock sandwiches.

The brunette nodded soberly, shaking her head to clear out cobwebs.

"Can you get that close?" Eliza asked, turning to face her sister as she put down her book.

"Not really, no." Angelica said, folding the used tissue and throwing it in the trash can near the counter.

"Oui. He wouldn't fall for it for long. It would need to be the someone he wouldn't suspect." Lafayette shook his head, in thought.

"Okay. Then we need a way to get inside. One that would be consistent, and could get in without raising any suspicions." Theodosia paced, unable to think of anyone who fit that description.

"What about Alexander?" John asked, leaning against the clean counter and irritating both girls beyond belief.

He looked up at Theodosia and grabbed a towel, laughing as she slapped him in the back of the head with another. 

"Would Alexander agree to this?" James asked, looking at John as he cleaned the counter.

"I can ask." John turned around, placing the dirty towel back in its bucket.

"Don't they hate each other, though?" The youngest Schuyler asked, heading to the register to buy another cookie.

John rubbed his hand across the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, yeah. They couldn't stand each other in college." 

"Then, how would they possibly get along for this to work?" She asked, chewing happily on her cookie.

He walked to the register to help the next person, rolling his eyes as the customer stared blankly at the board.

"I don't know, but with Alexander being so close with Washington, he can get in and out without being suspicious, so I think it's be good if he was on board." Theodosia said, sitting down next to Aaron as she ticked off reasons on her fingers.

"Or, we could sit around all day and do nothing, which isn't really an option." John tapped his foot under the counter as he tapped in the customer's order onscreen.

"John is correct about one thing. We will not sit around." Lafayette rested his head on Hercules's shoulder, the tailor offering the strength he needed to continue. "We cannot let this abuse go on any longer." 

Angelica nodded seriously, adding sugar to her coffee and taking a sip. "I will regret this for as long as we're friends, but I agree with John. It's not a bad idea, and Alexander is our best choice to pull it off." 

John cheered loudly at his register, earning the group annoyed looks in their direction.

Angelica looked the barista, sighing and rolling her eyes. "As soon as John stops acting like an idiot, of course."

* * *

Thomas sighed, glad Angelica was gone. He slowly packed all the food Angelica had brought back in the large wicker basket, thinking about where he could stash it.

He chose the hall closet, closing it shut and heading to the shower, where he heard the key turn in the lock seconds later.

Opening the door, George whistled at the sight that greeted him, glancing around at the pristine house and polished floors.

"Good job, baby girl. Looks like someone has been doing what I asked lately, huh?" He asked, eyes following a sharply dressed Thomas down the stairs.

Thomas grinned, glowing now that he had passed inspection. He headed for George, wrapping his arms around the taller man's waist.

"Good. Cause you know I hate when I hurt you, baby." He kissed Thomas's cheek, liking the feel of the stubble under his lips.

George straightened, the feel of his lips fading as he glared down. "But you still need to learn how to follow orders, and when you step out of line, you need to know that you will be corrected." He ran his hands down the bruised dark skin at the base of the darker boy's throat in warning, pressing down harshly, delighted at the wince he got in response.

"Okay?" He asked with a smirk, leading the scared boy to the dining area as his brain struggled to catch up with his feet.

Thomas nodded once again, the fear in his eyes showing, as he noticed that he was being lead to the dining area.

"Thomas?" George asked, bringing him back to the present.

"Yes, sir?" They stood in the dining area, dinner cooling and places already set for two.

"You know how our anniversary is Friday?" George asked gently, holding Thomas close.

"Yes, sir." Thomas responded instantly, eyes downcast.

"I wanna do something special then, baby, and I think you know what. Can I ask you something?" He looked at Thomas intently, his brain catching up to what was being said.

"Yes, sir." He answered, thoughts spinning, searching for any answer than the one he was getting. He looked up at George, who looked back expectantly.

"Just yes will do." He raised his eyebrows and gestured for Thomas to go on, finding his fear at the situation entertaining.

"Yes?" Thomas blushed again, head still lowered respectfully.

George grinned, liking the color blooming in his little girl's cheeks. "Will you be a good girl until then?" He traced a finger down the brunette's cheek, watching as the blush rose higher.

"I wanna be able to spoil you, baby girl. But will you be good, so you can earn it?" George pulled him closer, lips slowly tracing their way down the side of his neck.

Thomas licked his lips, head reeling. He wasn't used to this kind of attention. He wondered absently if the extra attention was real, or only for show. 

 _You should be glad he thinks that you're worthy of his attention at all._   _He thinks that you're worthy of his last name. Be grateful for once, you worthless little slut._ His thoughts whispered ruthlessly.

His thoughts turned to Angelica, standing at the door and telling him to take care of himself.

His heart wrenched, and he looked up at George, who was glaring back down at him in irritation.

George grabbed his arm, twisting it hard and forcing the brunette to nod until he was satisfied.

He snapped back to the present, pain shooting through his arm. "Yes, sir. I'll be good for you." He rubbed his arm tenderly, tears pooling in his eyes as he walked up the stairs with his new fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason I use a lot of girl friendly language in this chapter is because George uses it to control Thomas and mess with his head.
> 
> Thomas also likes being called things like baby girl/boy, is a little genderfluid (but not enough to include in the tags), and likes both guys and girls.


	3. Chapter Three: Alex

**Wednesday.**

* * *

George walked around the house, careful not to wake his baby girl. He had taken the day off and told his princess to sleep in. _Why shouldn't I?_ _He should know that I appreciate when he's good._

He wandered around the large house, thinking about nothing when he saw the note sitting on the table. 

It fluttered off the table and he picked it up before it hit the ground, the plain white paper decorated with signatures handwritten in different colors.

"Thomas, we hope you like the basket. If there's anything we can do for you, please let us know. We love you." - Your friends.

 _What basket?_ George thought as he glared at the card, turning it around in his hands. 

 _What is this supposed to be? Keeping secrets, huh?_  George laughed, glancing upstairs as he ripped the note to shreds. _This is the issue with girls. No trust. No reason. What will I do with you, baby girl?_ He thought sadly, shaking his head with regret.

He walked upstairs and opened the door carefully, watching the sleeping figure. 

* * *

Alex walked into the well lit coffee shop, greeting the other regulars with ease. He headed straight for the counter, only to be greeted at the register by Theodosia instead of John.

"What's up, Theo? Where's Johnny?" He asked casually.

"That's not my name!" was heard in reply as Theo snickered and entered Alex's usual order.

"In the back, doing dishes. What's up?" Theo said, giving Alex his change.

"Nothing. Just wanted to talk." He answered, putting the change back in his wallet.

"Well, you passed right by your other friends if you really wanted to talk." She said, winking and gesturing to the corner where Angelica and her sisters currently sat facing Hercules and Lafayette.

Crossing the room with his signature espresso, Alex sat down next to Lafayette and listened to Hercules go on about his last date with Elizabeth Sanders.

"Elizabeth Sanders, Elizabeth Schuyler, Margaret Schuyler, Margaret Shippen." John walked up to the group, folding his apron and sitting next to Alex. 

He turned to face the dark haired secretary. "What is up with that?" 

Eliza peered around the side of her book. "John, isn't your sister's name Martha? And your ex-girlfriend's, too?"

Hercules whistled as Lafayette cocked his head. "I was not aware that our John was once, how you say, straight." He raised his eyebrow suggestively to illustrate his point.

John stuttered, changing the topic as an excuse to rant about the new barista, who, in his (not so) humble opinion, couldn't tell chocolate from caramel.

Theo looked up, teasing him about spilling hot coffee on his apron the other day, causing John to blush and stop talking.

Angelica picked up where he left off. "You think that's bad? I run a newspaper with idiots for reporters. Charles Lee is the absolute worst when he can't get his way." She sat back in her chair, taking a deep sip of her drink.

Hercules snorted, continuing the chain. "Well, I wish that I had the cash to start my own business instead of sewing for all these stuck up, spoiled teenagers." He put his head in his hands.

Lafayette patted his shoulder and laughed, spinning stories about being the French ambassador. "Well, the American Embassy is beautiful in spring, and the people are always friendly and entertaining. But if I hear another one of Franklin's incessant contraptions clicking and whirring at all hours of the night again, I will scream." He sprawled out in Hercules's lap, feet hanging over the opposite end of the couch.

"Congratulations, Gil. You finally find something annoying about your job." Hercules teased, getting up to hand Lafayette his butter croissant. 

"Also, does anyone else notice this walking stereotype? Out of all the things he could order in here, sir baguette chooses a croissant." Hercules laughed as the entire group groaned.

Lafayette elbowed the tailor, shaking his head and biting into the delicious, buttery pastry.

Eliza ignored the boys, going on about how well the bookstore was doing instead. "It's been growing exponentially. By this time next year, we should be expanding to a new store. Plus, it gets Aaron and Alexander to work together without arguing for once."

Alex laughed, finishing his espresso without a single word.

"Well, Washington wants this finance plan finished before Friday, and he says that --" Lafayette interrupted, clearing his throat loudly while Angelica looked at the wall, frowning.

"What's going on? Was it about the finance plan? I know it can be boring, but it's actually pretty easy to understand." Alex looked around and stopped talking, noticing that all of his friends had gone silent.

"It was not your fault, Alexander. It is Washington's" Lafayette replied seriously, sitting up to speak to Alex.

"What happened?" Alex asked, confusion turning into concern.

"He is hurting Thomas." James ground his teeth together in anger, his desire to punch something growing.

"He is still hurting him." Angelica said, pounding her hand against her fist. "Unless we stop it."

"But we can't accuse him without proof. ." Aaron Burr added, putting down his book to look at the group.

"We can get that, if we can get Thomas to speak out against George."

"But we can't force him, angè. We can only plant the seed and hope he has the strength to let it grow."

"I don't know about the philosophy, French fry, but we can't go charging in like white knights and pretend we're saints. We are breaking up a household, not caring about how abusive of one it is. So yeah, I agree with no opinion over there." She finished, gesturing to Burr, who had put up his book again.

Theo walked from behind the counter to Aaron's table and lowered the battered copy of Great Expectations for her boyfriend so he could debate.

Burr sighed. Did he need a girl who could see through him like Theo? Then she kissed him, fast and light, like she hadn't been there, and he decided he did.

Then the rest of the corner cleared their throats, Mulligan being the loudest, and Burr rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Theo got Burr to smile? Crap, y'all, we shoulda asked her to join a while ago." John grinned, hopping the counter to join his friends.

In response, Burr held up two fingers and rolled his eyes at Laurens before putting them down.

"Dang, Burr. You salty today, huh?" Mulligan added while on the couch next to Lafayette and Alex.

"Nope. Just like regular." He said, unable to hold back another grin.

While Hercules teased Burr further, Alex got up and signaled to John for the two of them to go outside.

John took the hint and followed Alex, gesturing to Theo to go handle the register in case customers came in.

She nodded, separated from Burr, and went to go to the register right as the doorbell rang.

When they were outside, John started.

"All right, what's up? Why'd you drag us both out here?"

"I saw him the other day, when I was at George's house."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"What did he look like?"

"It was weird. He looked.. weaker. Younger. Scared. Not like the Jefferson I liked to hate. I felt bad, a little." 

"You need to tell the crew, Alex. Your friends. We're all worried about Jefferson."

"But, wait.  You all really think he's hurting Jefferson?"

John looked at Alex sideways before continuing. "You think he's not?"

"Those bruises could be from anything, John. He could.. I don't know." Alex paced while talking.

"Alex." John tried.

"What if he ran into a wall?"

"Alex." John tried again.

"What if he ran into a table?"

"Alexander." John started pacing beside Alex.

"What if he asked to be pinned?"

"Alexander." John paced faster, trying to keep up.

"Who really knows? Was it consensual?"

"Hamilton." John grabbed his best friend's shoulder to stop him.

Alex stopped when he could feel John's hand on his shoulder, solid and grounding. It was what he needed.

"He couldn't be. He's Washington. He's the President. He's.." Alex whispered, winding down.

"Hurting one of our friends. And it's not about what or who he is, Alex..It's about what he's doing. Whether you hate or love him, he's a person who doesn't deserve this." No one does. John thought, bringing Alex into a long hug.

And Alex, for once, forgot to fight it.

Alex blinked, sitting up in bed.  _What the hell had happened the other night? What had he done? Was he responsible for what happened? Whose side was he on, anyway?_  All these questions raced through his head with no answer.

He rolled over in bed, hoping to find answers, or at least a clue. He recalled his boss, getting angry at his old crush. The look he was shot by said crush when he stepped in the door after four years. With said boss.

Instead of answers, all he got was a sharp feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach.

 _Where was George that night?_  His faint but clear words were the last thing Alex remembered.

 _That was insane. George would never -- ._  He stopped the thought before he was sick.  _But he did._  His thoughts finished unwillingly.  _And yet you went back, after you realised what happened. Here you are, at his house, sleeping again. You're as sick as he is._ They taunted.

He checked the clock on the nightstand, desperate for anything else to do. 6:45, it read. George appeared suddenly in the doorway, stating plainly that it was time for work.

"Work?" He asked, confused, the dark feeling growing stronger. He decided to ask. To take a chance. "What happened the other night? Why was Thomas here? Is he still here?" 

George looked back with a small smirk. "That doesn't concern you, Alexander. Now go get dressed." George said, walking to the bed and playfully pushing him towards the shower.

"But, George -- " Alex started, wanting to think better than his boss, to know better than this, continued. The playfulness stopped suddenly, and Alex looked up to regret that decision.

"It. Does. Not. Concern. You." He stated clearly, punctuating every word with a step, causing Alex to back up slowly, as if facing an cornered animal. 

"Understand?" He finished, waiting for Alex's response. Alex nodded and swallowed hard, not wanting to upset his boss again.

"Good. Now go get showered and dressed like I tell you so we can go." George turned his back to Alex, choosing to straighten out wrinkles in his shirt instead.

Alex nodded again, this time running to follow orders. Alex didn't want anything to do with the backlash when Washington exploded.


	4. Chapter Four: Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little late, but better late than never, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm working on this? Cause I can't. Warning: Unfinished and unbeta'd. Read at your own risk.

**Thursday.**

* * *

Thomasturned around on his side, last night still fresh in his thoughts. He had sworn to be better, and had spent the entire day with George, decorating for Halloween and planning outfits for a party George insisted they go to.

They had gotten home late last night, and had spent the rest of it watching Game of Thrones together, throwing popcorn at the screen whenever they didn't like a character.

He walked upstairs to change pants and sat down for a second, only to wake up to George lying next to him, arm wrapped sweetly around his waist.

Still sleepy, he snuggled into his boyfriend and fell asleep again, knowing he was safe.

He opened his eyes, catching sight of George standing at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently for him to wake up.

He stretched slowly, unaware of the trouble he was in. Then he sat up, reaching for the back of his head as he hit the floor, dragged out of bed by his hair. His eyes began to water as his mind raced with possible reasons this was happening.

He saw George walk towards him through eyes clouded with tears, and watched as he kneeled to whisper in his ear.

"You can't do what I ask, at all can you? I want to treat you like a prince. The only thing I ask is that you obey and do what I say, baby girl. Is that too big to ask of you?"

He shook his head as an answer, but it wasn't enough. He grabbed his cheek suddenly, feeling George's handprint burn its way into his skin. 

George had.. hit him? _What? Why?_ He asked no one in particular, to no response.  _He wouldn't hit you for no reason, stupid._  His thoughts whispered cruelly.

 _Think about it. Unless he found reason to hurt you, he wouldn't. Especially not where anyone else could see._  

Thomas was horrified to think that he found it. _It had to be something else. Anything else._  But if he was this angry, it was only for good reason.  _Is there any other reason you can think of?_ He thought as he was forced to his knees.

He was dragged to the room by his hair, the strands trying desperately to stay in his head. He felt George try to force him open and resisted, fighting to get away before he was hit. _The baseball bat under the bed. Should be lucky it wasn't worse._ He felt his consciousness begin to recede, and tried to stay awake.

 _If you call this trying, then you deserve to lose._ A thought snarked at him from somewhere _._

He was losing, wasn't he?  _Losing what?_ He thought, not as aware as he should be. _Consciousness, idiot. We're hurt, and we're passing out._

Passing out. That sounded right. He thought he was supposed to stay. He tried to stay, but things kept disappearing into the darkness.

He tried to stay, he really did. But as his clothes disappeared, and rough hands took their place, he lost, and the darkness taking away any desire to stay he had left.

* * *

Alex woke up in his own apartment on Thursday, thinking back to the coffee shop.

 _Thomas is being abused. But how can I help?_ He thought in anger.

He looked up at the bed where John slept, surprised that its occupant was awake.

Dressed in sea green pajama pants with cartoon turtles printed on, and a green and gray senior shirt with faded white letters on the front, John Laurens stretched and walked downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing a box of Fruit Loops and a bowl before kissing Alex on the top of the head.

Alex, who had been awake for three hours already and was on his fourth cup of coffee, wrapped an arm around his roommate's waist and hugged him briefly before returning to his thoughts.

"Fruit Loops, John, really?" At the look John shot his coffee, Alex decided to change tactics.

"You're gonna eat those dry?" He raised his eyebrow in question.

John simply nodded, grabbing a handful and tossing them in his mouth, several missing their mark.

Alex watched as Fruit Loops landed everywhere on the table and John shrugged sheepishly, leaning forwards to pick them up.

He snorted into his coffee. "That is why you don't play with your food."

John rolled his eyes, looking down pointedly at Alex's coffee.

He looked up again, grinning playfully. "I know you're not talking about yours truly and food, when you can't be bothered to open your eyes before your first cup."

He leaned back and tossed a few Fruit Loops, catching them and chewing happily.

Alex shook his head, grinning. "Speaking of coffee, why aren't you at work?"

He checked his watch, looking back and forth between John and the time.

John put a hand on Alex's wrist and lowered it slowly.

When Alex looked up, John was no longer smiling.

"I.. I didn't go to work today, because I wanted to talk about Thomas, Alex." John gripped his hand gently, watching for a reaction.

Surprise, horror, and guilt flashed across Alex's face, the latter sinking into his features as if it belonged there.

He looked up, torn. "John, what can I do about that?" He stood up, pacing. "How can I help, in any way that could actually be useful?" He shook his head, brain racing at high speed.

"He hated the ground I stood on, he wouldn't think of accepting any help I could offer." He looked up at John hopelessly, worried and unsure.

"Alex, he doesn't hate you. And if he did, he would put that aside because he wants to escape. He wants out of that house, and we can help. We're his friends. We all need to help if we want to pull this off." 

Alex looked down, considering. "But what can I do, though?" 

John grinned, walking to where Alex stood. "You can be our guy on the inside."

"What?" Alex asked, bewildered. "Guy on the inside?"

"Yeah, like a spy. Washington likes you, right?" 

"I get treated like his son. Why?"

"Then you could talk to Thomas, see how he's doing, and not get George suspicious. He still thinks you two hate each other, right?"

"Yes." Alex said, pacing nervously. "But if he thinks that, then why wouldn't suddenly befriending Thomas be suspicious?"

John thought for a second, unable to answer.

He scratched his head in thought. "Well, we could think of a story to cover for you with Washington. He's always wanted to see you two get along, right?"

"Well, what about Thomas? We can't warn him, can we? Not with Washington right there, too." Alex looked up to see John pacing holes in the carpet.

He threw his hands up in frustration. "Well, we need to do something, 'Lex. We can't just sit around and scratch our asses." He stopped angrily, hands gesturing uncontrollably.

Alex walked to where John stood, crossing his arms.

"I'll be your spy, and I'll help you with Thomas, but I won't like it. Understand?" He shuffled his feet against the carpet, nervous.

"Of course, Alex. Thank you." He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and hugged him tight. 

When John finally let him go, he breathed in deeply, suddenly grateful for the presence of oxygen. "So now what?"

"Now, we call Lafayette and tell them you're in." John walked to the cordless phone beside the couch and started dialing their number. "They'll want to know."

Alex stared in shock. "You told Lafayette I would do this, before you asked to see if I would?"

John turned around and shook his head, transferring the phone to the other hand. "No, Alex, no." He looked horrified. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then what did you do, John? Cause that sounds like you did." Alex steamed, anger radiating off in waves.

"Are you accusing me of taking the day off to try and trick you into being a spy for us?" John cocked his head, in disbelief of the accusation being thrown at him.

At the look on Alex's face, the horror grew into disgust.

"I took the day off because 'Dosia said I looked sick, and I was."

At Alex's confused look, he continued.

"Because I didn't think anyone deserved this kind of shit, and wanted to help. Not use you." He gestured to Alex, hand rising and falling.

"James and Burr worked Theo and my shifts, today and yesterday." He tilted his head and crossed his arms.

"When you walked out of the store yesterday, I followed you because you looked bad, first of all. And second, because I couldn't stand there and serve coffee after that shit. So, Theo let us both off for the day."

"Maria stayed, because she is a fucking goddess and the store wouldn't run without her, but Theo and I left. That's how we got back here yesterday, remember?" He stood, still tightly holding the phone in one hand.

Alex wiped away tears, thinking about his accusing John of anything so.. desperate.

"I'm so sorry." He walked over and laid his head on John's shoulder, silently asking for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I really am." He sniffled, wishing he had a tissue.

He felt a hand on his back, soothing and gentle. "It's okay. It's okay, 'Lex. I know you didn't really mean it."

Alex sniffed again, looking up at his best friend. "If I said it, then a part deep down inside had to think it first. I won't let you say otherwise, John." 

John sighed, kissing his fiery friend on the top of the head despite the protest from said friend.

"Will you accept my apology?" Alex looked up again, head resting snugly against John's shoulder as the curly haired New Yorker grinned.

"Yeah. I accept your apology. Now, can we call Lafayette, please? They are not a patient person." John joked, finally pressing call.

* * *

"Wake up." The darkness echoed, searching for the source of the sound that had disturbed it.

He didn't want to. 

"Wake up." The darkness receded slightly at the second call, threatening to throw him back into the light.

He wanted to stay in the darkness. No one could hurt him there. It was safe there. _Like I thought you were, once. Like you used to be._

He wanted to go back. 

He wanted to feel safe again. 

"I said, wake up!" The belt stung on his bare thighs.

He would do anything to feel safe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's another chapter down, and another six to go. That took a lot to finish, honestly, and I wanted to stop at least ten times. I cried a little at the end, not gonna lie. It was just.. wow. I hope those of you who read this far appreciate this, because it was a challenge and I had to change phones in between writing, so it took a while longer than I would have liked. But it's not done yet, so get ready for another chapter soon. (You can hold me to it this time.)  
> \- Appreciation and Gratitude, Author.

**Author's Note:**

> You actually read this to the end? Wow. Thanks. I don't know what else to say though, so... See you next chapter?


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